The Return of Sargeras
by Mr-Soidabus
Summary: This follows where the books and the game left off in the story line. The story is my own however. Illidan and his followers have joined up with the newly ressurected Sargeras to try to take over the world again... Please R
1. Rumors Proven True

I take no credit for the names commonly known to Warcraft (ex. Illidan) The story and plot are completely my own however. I hope you enjoy. Please R&R  
  
Chapter 1-Tower Outpost  
  
11:40 P.M. Third day of the month of the Hare (Elvish Standards)  
  
It was a night like any other for Ramy. He, who was part of an elite group known as the Moon Guard, was sitting at his normal post, looking into, but not really seeing the pitch-black night all around him. The Moon Guard were the all powerful spell casters of the Night Elves. They were the ones who guarded the precious, and the valuable.  
The only trouble with the Moon Guard being that since they were Night Elf, their powers were all but worthless in the day. The Night Elves rained supreme in the dark, their eyesight equivalent to that of a human at midday. Not only did they have better eye sight at night, but their powers were at least twenty times more powerful at night. Why this was, no one really knew, it just is.  
As Ramy sat staring at nothing, wishing he was anywhere but on this giant tower he say something both amazed and surprised him. Off in the distance, almost farther than the eye could see, he saw a green beacon light up, appearing as if from nowhere.  
This light immediately registered two facts in Ramy's mind. One being that the rumors were true. The other that they were coming.  
The rumors were terrible things, even more so now that they were just proved to be true. The first rumor was that a group of Night Elves led by the infamous Illidan had joined the burning Legion (Also known as the Undead). These Night Elves were said to have been given immense power from the newly resurrected Sargeras.  
The other rumor was that this new unholy alliance was coming, with the intent to crush all in their path. This is the only reason that the beacons would be lit. The purpose of the beacons being to warn the queen of the Night Elves of the danger (The Night Elves were extremely feministic to the point of the woman holding almost all of the positions of power, and, equally positions in the army). The beacons stretched for hundreds of miles to accomplish this one goal.  
As Ramy was remembering all of this, suddenly, the true horror of the situation took hold of him. The Burning Legion. The thousands upon thousands of Undead Corpses. It was nearly impossible to stop their relentless charge, because they could resurrect the very corpses that had just died, to join their endless ranks once more. It happened more than once where a famed hero happened to go face to face with a friend or family member, and being unable to kill their former loved ones, they themselves has been killed.  
As if this wasn't enough, there was still the fact that their mere presence could send even the bravest scurrying for protection. They had twisted, demented bodies, often missing one or more missing limbs. And this was just the main body of the enemy. The leader of these monsters was a ...something... named Sargeras. No one was quite sure what or who Sargeras was, although many believed him to be a god of sorts. Sargeras was, at one time, sealed deep beneath the ocean in a tomb, and thought to be dead. That is, until Illidan resurrected him back.  
Illidan was an entirely different matter. He was once upon a time a Night Elf, and a power full one at that. Until he became power lustful, and didn't care what he had to do to achieve it... even if it meant kill his twin brother Malfurion. He was the one who brought back the Naga, fearsome reptilian creatures.  
Suddenly, Ramy jerked back into action, not wanting to waste any more precious time. He got up from the stone ledge he was sitting on, and after a quick stretch to help relieve his cramped muscles, he hurried towards what he had to do.  
In the very center of the roof of the tower was the giant crystal that would act as the beacon; it was to this that he hurried to. The crystal, which was about ten feet high and four feet wide, sat on a stone mini-tower about eleven feet high. Half way down this mini-tower was a glass orb, about the size of a head. As Ramy approached this orb, he saw something stir from within, almost sensing his presence. From within the orb swirled what appeared to be clouds, gray, and formless.  
When Ramy had reached this crystal, he placed both of his hands palm down on top of the crystal. As he focused his magic on the object now in his hands, a blue aurora seemed to envelop him, all the way down to his fingers, but not the orb itself.  
His magic stirred from within the orb magic that had laid dormant for months, possibly even years. This now active magic powered the crystal, causing it to glow bright green. This magic was so powerful, that if Ramy had looked directly into the crystal from this distance, he would have been blinded by the light.  
As Ramy stepped back from the crystal, his job now completed, he thought only one thing. It has begun. 


	2. Decisions

Chapter 2 Orc Capitol-Thran's Castle  
  
1:15 P.M. Sixth day of the month of the Hare (Elvish Standards)  
  
Grall walked swiftly up to the stone door guarded by two brutish fellow Orcs, each with their standard axe, already drawn and ready to use, in case Grall turned out to be hostile. But, even if Grall did turn out to be hostile, there was little chance he would be able to do anything anyway, even if he did manage to kill the two guards. Because, the castle that he was about to enter, Gundra, had outer walls at least twelve feet high, not to mention that the stone door that lay before him, which would have been impossible for him to move by himself.  
"Whatdya want?" The bigger of the guards grunted, his words barely understable. Both of the guards visibly moved closer together at this point, further blocking off his path through the door.  
"I have important information for Warchief Thran." Neither Orc made and move to let him through obviously not impressed by his answer. "My name is Grall. I report regularly to the great Thran. I am expected." At this, the Orc who hadn't yet spoken yelled up to someone on the top wall, who went off to see if Thran was in fact expecting him. After a few minutes, the sentry on top yelled down that he was to be let in. The doors were then opened, and the two guards grudgingly stepped out of the way.  
Even though Grall had been here many times before, he was always amazed by the sheer size of what now lay before him. Just inside the walls that were lined by guards, there lay three warehouses stockpiled with enough food and equipment to last at least a year (This was the longest it had ever been tested, but even then, supplies were running thin.) should they be besieged at any time. Past there warehouses were the houses that the peasants and the soldiers stayed in. This "courtyard" was big enough to actually be considered a decent sized city by even the Humans. There were farms constantly growing various foods to feed the many mouths that lived here. In the center of all of this, lay the great castle Gundra, the traditional residence of the Orc's Warchief ever since they had first captured it from the Humans.  
This was, in fact, a touchy subject for the Orcs. Most didn't want to admit their mighty castle had actually been build by the Humans. The Orcs managed to capture it, and made it their stronghold. This was the first "permanent" residence of the former wandering species. On the outside of the wall that Grall had just passed through, there lay an enormous city, most of the buildings classic, primitive, Orc style. But ever now and then you saw an elaborate or amazing building the other races wouldn't have thought possible of the Orcs.  
Because this was by far the largest Orc "settlement", this city had everything that they needed. They had blacksmiths, training facilities, and much more to help their cause. One thing about this city that was much pride to the Orcs, since they had captured this city from the Humans, the Orcs had never been defeated here. They had been besieged by the Humans, but outlasted them, and never once let a foe take a step inside the boundaries of their empire.  
Grall continued on his path, past the wall, and up to the actual castle itself. As he reached the castle, another heavy iron gate was opened, so that he did not miss a step as he continued on his way.  
As he entered, all he was greeted by was cold stone, with no decoration of any kind present. When the Orcs had taken the castle, they had thrown away any moveable carpets and all tapestries, calling them signs of "Human weakness." Grall continued on the main hallway heading for the center, the Grand Chamber, where he knew Thrall would be sitting on his throne, waiting for him.  
Grall entered the Grand Chamber, knowing what to expect, in the center, towards the back, sat the familiar stone chair, imposing as always. Grall approached the chair, and when he was about thirty feet away, he laid his axe on the ground, following the custom not to carry a weapon to close the chief. Even so, the guards around Thrall did not let him get within a few yards, before they told him to stop.  
"Leave us." Was all that Thrall said in response to Grall's arrival. The guards unquestionably left him, and went well out of earshot, so they could talk privately. "Greetings Grall, what news have you for me?" No matter what species you were it was always an honor to have your leader know your name personally, as Grall full well knew this, he nodded his head for the honored recognition his leader had give him.  
"I have come to inform you of terrible news. The Burning Legion is back, this time with the aid of Night Elves." The words 'Night Elves' he practically spat, detesting the vile creatures.  
"What?" Demanded Thrall, "The Night Elves? When did this happen?" Thrall was now sitting straight up; a couple curious guards were starting to look their way, wondering what the sudden outburst was all about.  
"Apparently Illidan and his followers have joined with the newly resurrected Sargeras. Worse, this new alliance is on the march, spreading this way even as we speak."  
"Are they coming here?" Thrall asked, concern spreading across his face.  
"No, not directly here, they are heading more towards the Night Elf capitol Zin-Azchara. They are coming for the peninsula of Kaz-Nadun." After the major war against the Burning Legion, in which all three races had banded together to defeat them for the first, and what they thought would be the last time, all three races had settled in a make-shift triangle, from where the Undead where coming, they would hit the Night Elves first, then the next closest would be the Orcs, followed by the Humans. (These three settlements are by no means close; this is just the order in the closeness they would appear from Kaz-Nadun.)  
"This is terrible news indeed," commented Thrall stroking his long, white beard. "Correct me if I'm wrong, so some Night Elves have joined the Undead, and now they, and their entire army is on the march, possibly to attempt a second try at conquering the world? Which, in turn, would lead them to us, and the imminent threat against my people?"  
"I don't know how much of their army is on the move, otherwise everything you said was true. This leaves us with several options. First, I think we all remember how we barely beat the Burning Legion the first time, so, we should possible try to forge the Sacred Alliance with the Humans and Night Elves (The ones who didn't follow Illidan, and who are loyal to their ways). Or, we could wait and see what happens with the Night Elves when they come in contact with the Undead."  
"And what do you suggest?" This was actually a very dangerous position for Grall. Because, while he was asked what he thought, he needed to be very careful what he said. The Orc's anger was legendary, and Grall could be dead where stood if he said the wrong thing.  
Taking the safe route, Grall calmly replied, "Whatever you decide, is the wise thing to do." This was the safest thing Grall could think of to say, and he was actally quite proud of himself for it.  
At first it looked like Thrall was going to respond in anger, but then his brow smoothed out. If Thrall wouldn't have been starring off into space, thinking intently, he would have seen Grall visibly relax. Finally, Thrall blinked, then simply stated, "We shall wait and see what happens with the Night Elves. I doubt that they will form the Sacred Alliance anymore. So we shall just have to wait and see." After another long pause, he continued, "Also, double the scouts, I want to know everything that happens, when it happens. Do not inform the peasants of anything. Gather my generals for a meeting, again, don't them what for. That is all, keep up the good work." With that, Thrall gave a wave his hand, dismissing Grall.  
"Yes sir." Grall replied, giving the standard nod of the head, then turning on his heal to walk out of the Grand Chamber. When he got to the entrance hall, a servant who had been waiting handed back his axe. (This was the Orc custom, after the person approached the War Chief and had laid down their weapon, a servant came and collected it, politely giving it back when their audience with the Chief was over.) 


End file.
